'Q and not U' Brings the Funk to Pedro Coffee Scene

by Roggie McFadden

SAN PEDRO, Calif. -- September 23, 2002 -- Washington, DC-based band Q and not U brought the crowd to its feet with catchy sing-along anthems that showed they do know how to rock, capping off an evening of hard rock heroics at the excellent coffee shop venue, Sacred Grounds.

Located at 399 W. 6th Street in San Pedro, Sacred Grounds has a pleasing, inviting aura about it. Lining the sidewalks were groups of chatting friends and people playing acoustic guitar. These guitarists were banging out tunes purely for the amusement of their assembled cohorts, and not for spare change or scraps of half-eaten food as do many musicians in Hollywood and Venice.

Local Pedroanos described how every songwriter there has his own 'Ode to Pedro.' (By the by, the town is pronounced PEEE-droh. We're still in 'Merica gawdammit). One musician sang in heartfelt language about his hometown, "Pedro… where the sewer meets the sea…This ain't Beverly Hills…it's Pedro 9-0-7-3-1…"

After conferring with locals, I entered Sacred Grounds and was impressed with the sight around me. Assorted hipsters reclined in the wide variety of high-back leather chairs and comfy sofas scattered about; one artist of pensive demeanor sketched figures while neighbors engaged in a high-stakes game of checkers; toward the far end, three young men feverishly endeavored to construct a 1000-piece puzzle. While observing these disparate activities, I made my way toward the counter to get myself a beverage.

I tried out the "Sacred Cow," the specialty drink of Sacred Grounds regulars. The "Cow" is composed of espresso and ice and everything nice (including chocolate syrup). While sipping this flavorful concoction, I looked over to see the progress on the puzzle; it appeared that when completed, it would depict a rocky coastal scene. Incidentally, the scene here in coastal San Pedro was just about to get rocking.

The first band to which I lent my attention was Bullet Train to Vegas. They let everyone know that they play loud and asked people to stand up. They played and I enjoyed their high-energy punk rock though a couple songs into the set, many in attendance had again descended into their seats. The crowd's apparent lethargy detracted a bit from the performance, but what are you gonna do?

Following was Xiu Xiu (pronounced SHOO-SHOO) ushering in a sound explosion: they commenced by tolling little bells and chemistry flasks while a woman behind a stack of amplifiers created some poetic cacophony. Then came the gee-tars; and the programmable drum machine; and the keyboards; and this big accordion box (I confess I don't know the proper name). There was even a mandolin propped on stage which I assumed they would employ later. Xiu Xiu deluged the audience with showers of noise (and some music) using an ever-changing assortment of percussive and melodic instruments to plunge all into an atmosphere of esoteric sound: thundering rockets colliding - popping - snapping - crackling.

Finally, the cozy chairs were cleared from in front of the stage, permission to rock out was granted, and Q and not U took the stage. An air of funkifikation took hold as the trio got going on a performance that was raw but well-done, like no steak I'd ever had. Promoting their forthcoming album Different Damage (Dischord), the band played many new songs with which I was unfamiliar. They did find time to play classics from their 2000 release No Kill No Beep Beep, and in rocking fashion. Co-singer Chris Richards brought the crowd to raucous levels with an inspired act that got everyone singing and clapping their hands like a good ol' Texas hoedown.

From Wilshire Gazette (November 2002)

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